


Kiss the Vamp

by rbgy



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, M/M, yamamitsu if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 14:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rbgy/pseuds/rbgy
Summary: The first time Mitsuki saw him, he was enamored. Silver hair and eyes, pale white skin, slender fingers and a generously build body, this man was practically a marble statue come to life. Little did he know that statue was bound to be his downfall.Self indulgent GakuMitsu vampire AU. Will update tags as needed.





	1. ENTER: Gaku Yaotome

**Author's Note:**

> hi it's been a very long time since I've written fic so this is interesting. thanks for joining me on this adventure.
> 
> important things:  
> * follows carmilla style vampires, he isnt gonna burst into flames in the sun lol  
> * idolish7 has been changed to lovely seven bc having them be idolish wouldnt be period enough for my weak ass  
> * none of the language in this is period specific though  
> * lol  
> * adonis is a musical that had a rerun in 1899 and is one of the most popular musicals of that era. It's the story of a gorgeous male statue that comes to life and finds human ways so unpleasant that he chooses to turn back into stone. gaku plays adonis bc im simple.
> 
> this is self edited and beta-ed bc im a coward...

The first time Mitsuki saw him, he was enamored. Sat amidst the penny-seats of the audience for the musical  _ Adonis _ , he had been curious to see the talent of those who were in his place a few years before.

Of recent, it was becoming a common event for Japanese theatre groups to be invited to England to perform for the Queen. The infamous group, Trigger, was the most recent selection of “exotic actors” for Her Majesty. The thought of being used as foreign fantasy fodder made the actors skin crawl, but the potential of infamy from their performance was almost intoxicating enough to forget about it. After all, when Trigger performed Adonis for the first time, news of the masterpiece traveled faster than any newspaper of the time. It was already hard enough for Lovely Seven* to get their foot in the door, being comprised of solely amateurs, this bait provided a tempting possibility.

So, the seven men and their managers took an excruciatingly long boat trip to England, which is how Mitsuki found himself where he is now, enraptured by the might of acting legends as they strutted across the stage belting powerful cords and vibrato. 

And when he saw the lead, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Every moment the man dipped into the wings, away from the stage and the glittering lights, left the auburn haired boy longing for more. Silver hair and eyes, pale white skin, slender fingers and a generously built body, this man was practically made to play the part of a marble statue come to life. He was so close, too, the only thing separating them was the orchestral pit and a few feet. Every line, every emotion felt so real and so close, any disbelief he could have had was out the door and dropped in the horse trough across the street.

And then, before he realized, it was over. 

The actors took their bow, the roar of applause overtaking the theater as people ushered out doors and into the streets of London, drawing Mitsuki out with them. He almost made his way back to the Turner house where his troupe had been staying for the past week, but something stopped him. Feet planted on the ground, leaning against a streetlamp and staring blankly at the exterior of the theatre, he waited. For what? Maybe it was the possibility that maybe that man, the man who was carved from stone by God himself and placed on this earth, would walk through those open wooden doors. Just so he could get a good look at him, one more time. 

For inspiration.

Yeah, inspiration. That was it. He was so deeply moved by the performance, he needed to say something about it. Thank him or praise him, he needed to do something.

It wasn’t until the sun had fallen below the cities skyline, golden hour long over and fading into the deep blue of night, when the cast finally emerged from the building. With a large stretch and yawn, they all bid each other goodnight, turning opposite directions with a wave.

“U-um,” before he knew it, Mitsuki had dashed across the street. The silver haired man turned, confused at first by the unrecognized voice before giving a soft smirk as Mitsuki continued, “Your performance was amazing today.”

“Oh, you’re a fan?” The actors voice wasn’t quite as deep as his stage personas, and it fell in a more harmonic tone rather than the bassy one Mitsuki had grown used to. 

“Yeah! Though, this is only my first time watching you. Haha, to be honest, I don’t even know your name.”

“Well, regardless how many times you’ve seen me act, I’m grateful for the support. I’m Gaku Yaomtome,” A hand held out before him, which Mitsuki gladly accepted.

“I’m Mitsuki Izumi,” Honestly he had practiced that long and hard, introducing himself given name  _ then _ last name, but he didn’t stutter over correcting himself anymore.

Gaku’s eyes widen with surprise for a moment, though with a lean and squint said surprise lessens and he settles back into the casual cocked-hip slouch he had been standing in before, “I guess you are Japanese aren’t you. What brought you all the way across the ocean to England, Izumi?” 

“My theatre company recently moved here, I came with them,” Mitsuki stated calmly, eventually revealing he was abroad under similar circumstances to Gaku. The two chatted for a while from there, moving underneath an awning and out of the way of passing foot traffic. The older man thrilled to finally meet a fellow actor that spoke his native tongue after his several years of struggling with English, and the younger relishing the time he had with someone so talented. It was all technical, from discussions of the craft, to the excruciating journey from Japan, to even just complaining about the sudden difference in culture.

Parting ways was difficult, but the night had dragged on so long that the city was now a ghost town. Exhaustion had finally bared down on Mitsuki a handful of minutes earlier and now the clock towers were chiming for the second time since their conversation first started.

“Ah-- I’m sure you’re tired from working today, I should let you go,” the shorter man apologized with a slight bow of his head, “I’m sure we will see each other again, at least.”

At that, Gaku pulled the bag he had slung over his shoulder before him. Digging around for a moment before pulling out a wax pencil and paper, he scratched something down and handing it over, “Here, this is my address. I’m usually there in the morning, if you ever want to stop by,” A soft smirk spreading across his lips.

“You’re pretty forward, huh, Yaotome?” After taking the paper, Mitsuki crossed his arms bemused, giving Gaku an incredulous look. “Or do you do this for everyone who compliments your performances?”

“Only those who catch my attention. Well, I’ll see you, then,” He had already turned, waving over his shoulder as he trotted across the street and into the distant dark alleyways.

When he no longer saw the reflection of lamplight against pale skin, Mitsuki finally looked to the paper in his hand, old browning paper torn from a notebook so haphazardly taken there was notes on the back-- he was pretty sure it was latin? What a weird guy.

He was definitely going to pay him a visit one of these days.

* * *

A sound rumbled deeply, the sound of walls and glass shaking violently erupting suddenly from all around him. Orange eyes flew open, frantically searching for the source only to find nothing but faint moonlight gleaming past wooden beams in the window. Desperately, he tried to move, swallowing heavily to clear the nervous lump in his throat to no avail. The sounds didn’t stop, rather getting louder and louder. 

Without warning, inky blackness seeped into the room, under cracks and around corners, erasing starlight creeping upwards until there was nothing left to see anymore but pitch black. His breath halted, barely able to escape his lungs, as if breathing too hard would invite the shadow inside. The shadow shifted, searching for a moment before lingering over the bed finally leaving a heavy feeling on his chest.

The next morning, Mitsuki was jolted awake by the force of something slamming directly into his stomach. Sputtering out a few coughs, he opened his eyes to see none other than his fellow troupe member, Nagi Rokuya, who’s smile glittered in the low morning light. Mitsuki let out a groan, his head slumping back into his pillow. 

“Good morning! It’s time for practice you know,” Nagi was very good at getting his point across, the point being not even your room is safe from my reign of energetic terror this early in the morning. Not that Mitsuki didn’t appreciate Nagi’s presence in the group -- after all the foreign man was the reason any of them could currently reside in London in the first place, let alone speak a lick of English- but this morning the older man had half a mind to shove him out the door and lock the door behind him. 

He hadn’t returned until long past midnight, getting lost in the London streets without anyone to ask for directions until he finally found some Night Watchmen outside a pub. The Turner house had long been dark at that point, and he snuck in through the back door, trying his best to avoid the floorboards creaking underneath him as he climbed the stairs. After failing several times, he heard someone sturr and rushed the rest of the way to his room, unsure why he was embarrassed for being out so late. It wasn’t like he had some something wrong, yet for some reason he wanted to keep his meeting with Gaku secret. 

“You were out so late Mitsuki, we missed you!” Nagi continued, finally being pushed from his lap as he sat up rubbing his eyes, “Where did you go?”

“I got lost after that play I saw yesterday,” Not entirely a lie, he shrugged, “I’m still not used to the layout of this city, I guess.”

“OH! Maybe I should come with you next time!”

“No!” Ah, a little too passionate on that ‘no’ there, Izumi, “No. I’ll never learn if I don’t make mistakes right?” He gave a soft laugh, getting up and straightening out the covers of his bed before pulling his undershirt over his head.

“Is that so?” The blondes head tilted in curiosity, never having considered that before, “... You look upset, is something wrong?”

Mitsuki was gazing vacantly at out the fogged window, thinking about his dream for the first time since he had woken up. Realizing this, he turned his entire body away from the windowsill, shuddering at the memory of the dark shadow that had engulfed his view of the sky, trying to forget the still fresh sounds of the hinge shaking from its force, the still heavy feeling lingering in his chest. 

“I’m fine, just had a weird nightmare,”

“Oh no! Should I sleep with you tonight to protect you from the monsters of your mind?” As he would when flirting with a pretty girl, Nagi smoothly and calmly worked his way into Mitsukis personal bubble. Mitsuki only gave him a deep frown.

“Absolutely not! Now, get out so I can change!” The now balled up undershirt shirt smacked against Nagi’s head, and he left in his usual manner of joking complaints. When the door closed with a hollow click, Mitsuki released a heavy sigh. His cast members were so nosey sometimes, he thought, pulling on a pair of worn slacks, buttoning up a long sleeved white shirt over it before tucking the hem into the beltline.

Thumping his way down the stairs, Mitsuki was greeted by the sight of the five other members of his company as well as their Manager. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Yamato called out, one hand raising a cup of black coffee in greeting before taking a long sip. So, even he was awake already? That really was something if he slept past their leader who makes it a point to specifically be up last.

“G’ morning, did I miss anything?” The remaining chimed their greetings in response, everyone gathering at a large wooden table to the left of the room, a spread of bread and cooked eggs already placed out.

“Nothing of importance,” This was Iori now, who sat aggravated between Riku and Tamaki.

“Iorin said he’s not gonna teach us how to make cakes, even though he promised he would,” The youngest member complained, head cradled in crossed arms of the table. He gave a side glance towards Mitsukis younger brother, who only reacted with even more aggravation than before.

“I said I  _ might _ , and I changed my mind. Plus, Nii-san is much better at cakes than I am,”

“A man doesn’t go back on his word, Iori!” Riku piped up. Well, it’s good to know the sudden change in nation didn’t change anything about those three. Their bickering continued on, but Mitsuki left them to resolve it themselves for once, not nearly awake enough yet to help them sort out their problems.

Everyone had scattered to their own by now, Nagi and Sougo now missing from the mix. Mitsuki grabbed himself a cup of coffee and slice of toast from the table, immediately aware of how necessary it would be to get through the day. Leaning over the table, though, he was nearly startled into spilling the mug across the table by a shocked gasp distressingly close to his ear.

“Mitsuki-san you’re bleeding!” Tsumugi was almost directly next to him, now fingering at his collar to look at the red splotches that supposedly stained it.

Yamato, who had seated himself on the tabletop, joins in with a snort, “Yikes, what did you do last night? Visit a brothel without me?”

“Shut up, Nikaido,” Mitsuki growled, his free hand trailing up to his collarbone only to return with the aforementioned blood smeared across his fingers. “I might have nicked myself while getting dressed this morning.”

The oldest member only lifted an eyebrow in response, slightly hushed as to not draw the attention of the still bickering teens, “In the shape of teeth?”

“I don’t know!”

Tsumugi interrupted quickly, before there was two groups arguing away the morning, “We should clean this up, for now! Come on Mitsuki-san,” And before he could even argue, she had him by the hand, dragging him off in the direction of the kitchen. 


	2. You don't have to be a vampire to leave bite marks you know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sougo provides an odd explanation for Mitsuki's mysterious bite marks, and nobody really wants to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hm wow i wrote this faster that i thought i would.  
> im glad people enjoyed the first chapter, i'm enjoying writing this! i realize i could have posted this as one long fic but i dont think i could have convinced myself to continue writing it if i didnt break it up. i'm gonna try to keep chapters generally the same length as i post.
> 
> anyways for now, i hope you enjoy the read!

Light poured in through open bay windows, tinted a bright pink from the red half curtains that hung over the frames. The kitchen was small, still fairly warm from the smoldering fire that had yet to be fully smothered in the oven, heat elevated by the sun lighting the room.

“Maybe we should have a doctor look at that, Mitsu,” Yamato had trailed after the two, sarcasm dropped at the kitchens threshold.

Mitsuki was sat on a stool near the stove now holding a towel on the cuts, despite the fact that they had more or less stopped bleeding, while Tsumugi wandered off to hound for something to bandage with. He tilted his head back to look at the older man, rather unphased by the situation. Odd enough, already.

“You really didn’t notice it?”

The younger man shook his head, removing the towel to look at the dried blood that has rubbed off on the white fabric. Several distinct puncture wounds remained, he could see the edges of one if he looked hard enough, poking at it with his finger. “It doesn’t hurt or anything, either.”

Yamato immediately grabbed his hand top stop him, “Somehow, I don’t think that’s a good sign.”

Kneeling down to get a good look at the wound, Yamato began unbuttoning the top buttons of Mitsuki’s shirt to see if it went any further than they already knew. After a few buttons, it became evident it was only centered just above his collar bone, which was both relieving and confusing simultaneously. Maybe Mitsuki really had just gotten drunk and had a wild night of partying without them? Part of him hoped that was the case, but another part also feared the human who bit hard enough to draw blood as well as feared that Mitsuki could get drunk enough to be bit without  knowing.

Suddenly, the sound of a shoe sole against old wood kicked up, a soft hum accompanying it. Sougo, basket of laundry that had been left outside overnight in hands, backed into the kitchen. Turning to face the duo, his song fell short.

Exposed neck, bite marks, close proximity? Yeah, okay.

“Um,” Purple eyes immediately overt from the situation, turning back outside and already half out the door, “I’ll go through the other door, then, don’t mind me!”

“No, Sou. Come back, it’s not what you think,” Yamato pinched the bridge of his nose under wire frames. Sougo swung back around fairly quickly, little convincing needed, throwing the basket haphazard onto the counter with a set of sheets toppling over the edge as he did.

“If it’s not that, I’m curious what the explanation is…” He paced a bit closer, untying the apron that covered most of his front so that it only hung from his neck.

Leaning in to fully grasp what it was exactly Yamato was doing, Sougo was taken a bit by surprise to see what he was faced with, “What in the…”

“You’re certain you don’t know what this is from?” The leader repeated for the umpteenth time.

“No memory of it.”

“And it doesn’t hurt?”

“It doesn’t. Nothing weird has happened recently, I swear.”

The three sat in silence for a moment, Sougo with one finger pressed to his chin, Yamato unable to look away from the wound, and Mitsuki just as dazed as he started the day. From the other side of the door, they could hear the younger kids bickering, Nagi now joined in rather enthusiastically at that.

“Well,” Mitsuki paused for a moment, he wasn’t sure how this was relevant but, “I did have a weird dream last night,”

“Weird?” Almost in tandem, both Sougo and Yamato shot him a perturbed glace.

“Yeah, I don’t remember all of it that great but there was a shadow or something that attacked me--er not really attacked me but like… consumed me I guess?”

“Could it be possible...?” Sougo looks up towards the ceiling in thought, “The bites are weird enough but combined with the visit of a shadow…”

Yamato grabbed him on the shoulder, trying to pull him down from whatever fantasy he was spinning this time, “This isn’t another one of your weird European Occult things is it?”

“Well, I was just thinking, it fits really closely with all the different accounts! Maybe Mitsuki-san was bitten by a vampire.”

“Unbelievable…”

“Mitsuki-san, do you have any other symptoms?” Sougo was now clearly enthralled by the new prospects. Vampires are real and visiting someone he was friends with? What other evidence could he get?

“I’m still pretty tired but--”

“You didn’t get home until late, that doesn’t mean anything,” Their leader had moved away, in disbelief they were actually entertaining the idea. “Say it was a vampire, wouldn’t he turn? Then Mitsu would have just burst into flame as soon as the sun came up.”

“Not necessarily. It’s actually a misconception that they cannot be out in the sun, rather they’re just nocturnal,” The white haired actor stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

“What, have you actually met one before? I can’t believe you actually believe that,”

Mitsuki stood up, folding over the towel in his hands and placing it on the counter nearby before joining in, “Me neither, actually. Really,  I just scratched myself when I was asleep or it was something in my shirt.”

“But--” A soft, sad frown spread across Sougo’s lips.

“Thank you for your help though, Sougo,”

Mitsuki was almost cut off by Tsumugi excitedly reentering the room, white metal box in hand, “I found it! Let’s clean you up before it can get anything in it.”

The manager was proud in her accomplishment of rifling through the remaining packed items that everyone had been slowly and reluctantly dealing with.

In the end, it didn’t take too long to bandage him, though difficult to find something that would properly fit to his collarbone. They wrapped gauze oddly around his neck and underneath his armpit just to hold on tight, it really began to feel like he was trying to cover up a vampire bite after all.

Yamato and Sougo had gone off back to the main room of the house, one complaining about how hot the kitchen was and the other finishing the duties he had set out for earlier when he went to get the laundry from the clothes lines.

“You don’t have to do practice today, just so that can heal a little bit before taking the bandages off or moving it too much,” Tsumugi gave the bandage one last tug to make sure it was tight before leaning away and allowing Mitsuki to re-button his shirt. “We can just focus on the scenes with Riku-san and Tamaki-san, since they’re both struggling with the english anyways.”

And with that she gave him a soft bow before making her way out to the common area to start practice before he even had the chance to protest. From where he as, he overheard her saying he wasn’t feeling well -- glad she didn’t mention he got uh…. _bitten_ in front of the younger members, especially his brother -- before starting practice. Iori protested momentarily, the others worried, but it was quickly resolved with ‘he just didn’t sleep well -- he just needs some rest’ and for once he was glad Yamato was their leader. He was good at improvising and diluting problems so that they seemed less bad than they really were. It worked well whenever Riku was sick, whenever something went wrong, and especially when everyone was stressed.

Mitsuki returned to his room by taking the long way around the house as to not interrupt the rehearsal. He was genuinely tired after all, almost glad that he wasn’t working up a sweat downstairs with everyone else. The second he hit the bed, his shoulders sunk deep into the soft fabric. It felt so much more comfortable than he ever remembered, still slightly warm from when he left it not even an hour earlier. His eyelids struggling to stay open, he eventually gave into exhaustion, napping off whatever fatigue he had to the sound of singing creeping up through the floorboards.

* * *

 

When Mitsuki awoke again a few hours had passed. Turner house was now silent, no hint of anyone shuffling around the building. Practice was over then, he thought. His previous exhaustion hadn’t really allowed for him to feel guilty for skipping before, but now that his mind was much clearer he couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry.

After all, he was the one who probably needed the most work, out of everyone here. He struggled with the lyrics at times, his acting wasn’t quite on par with tyrants like Yamato who dominated the stage like a pro. And then there was Riku whose voice was so strong and powerful, from the second they started rehearsing he never had much to improve. Everyone was working hard, their performance only two weeks away, meanwhile he slept the day away because he couldn’t control himself and went and _talked up some other actor after a play instead of coming home._

As time went on, he began to feel worse and worse, on a downward spiral that didn’t seem to want to end regardless of how hard he tried. Quickly, he threw his feet over the side of the bed, realizing he hadn’t even taken off his shoes before he passed out. If he couldn’t get out of his thoughts, maybe leaving the house would do it for him.

There was a note under his door that read ‘went to market, be back later’. Mitsuki picked it up and moved it over to his already cluttered desk. It really was amazing how much junk he had piled on it in the few days he had occupied this room, from a handful of ink vessels to books and stacks of paper. He stuck the note in his letter organizer, behind his rehearsal notes and attempts at scrapped writings. Except, at the front of what is usually only his writing something caught his eye. Wax pencil on paper that was considerably darker than any of his own notes. He had completely forgotten he had gotten the address of that actor. It wasn’t far from here, as far as he could remember. Maybe…

Pulling his coat from the back of the chair at his desk, he took off down the hallway. He hopped down the stairs, skipping every other step, the note from Gaku in hand.

Maybe he didn’t attend practice today, but if that guy was still home he might just give him some pointers, actor to actor. It might make him feel a bit better too, getting his head out of the sand that was slowly filling his ears and mind. It wasn’t just an excuse to go pay a visit. Not at all.

* * *

 

It took him longer to find the house than he expected, determined to find it without asking someone, however when he reached it he was surprised he didn’t notice the literal _mansion_ beforehand. The building spanned half the block, towering three stories high with a roof that was even taller. It had a small courtyard with an iron wrought fence at the entrance. Reluctantly, he pushed through. He was invited after all, right? The other actor had given him a physical copy of his address, if that didn’t mean ‘hey I expect you to come visit’, he wasn’t sure what did.

Inside the garden, there was a tree, several bushes all overgrown and needing of a good trim. The lack of flowers was a bit surprising, there were beds but no occupants, rather it was overgrown with weeds and grass. Ivy crawled up the sides of the house, blocking out windows and creating vein-like cracks up the side of the house. This place was owned by a famous actor? You’d think the guy would have a better upkeep schedule but it looked like the place hadn’t been cared for in years.

He made his way up the short set of stairs, pulling up the knocker which emanated a screech which sounded like a cat stepped on by an elephant before the elephant stomped again, the knocker thudding against the door in a way that echoed in his chest.

It took a few minutes before the door was opened. A frail looking boy clad in all black looked back at him, suspicion tainting his features. His hair was white, pulled back behind one ear, and he had eyes a piercing pink.

“What can I do for you?” It was almost angelic, the timber of the boys voice, but snakelike in a way that made Mitsuki shudder. It dawned on him that this was one of the actors from _Adonis_ that he saw the day before, he really looked different when not wearing the colorful stage garb that the actors had worn in variations throughout the acts.

“I was wondering if uh… Yaotome Gaku was here?” He thought to just leave it there, but quickly jumped back in as the younger looking man squinted, “ I’m a friend!”

“Ah. I see,” pale lips pressed together in a line as the other man thought for a moment before motioning Mitsuki inside.

The auburn haired actor stood dumbfounded for a moment, uncertain what to do. Opening the door the other man rolled his eyes and motioned a little more forcefully, “Come. In?”

“Ah, yeah okay,”

The foyer of the mansion was extravagant to say the least, breath taking to say a little more. It had columns that stretched up towards the top floor, and he was certain the floor would glitter brilliantly if the light of outside wasn’t blocked off by thick curtains. Instead it was lit with candles and gas lamps, which cast heavy shadows across the walls. It was pretty evident the place was never cleaned, piles of dust on the edges of books and chairs, but it also seemed it was never touched either.

The pale man lead Mitsuki up the stairs that twisted slightly towards the center of the room, clearly not interested in holding a conversation. At the end of the hallway, he turned into the a large open room. In here a few of the curtains were drawn, drastically contrasting the rest of the house so far, the allowed light bouncing and refracting off of shiny marble tile up into the rafters of the room.

“You have a friend?” This was spoken with as a question, mocking tone implied but not quite acted upon.

Gaku sat in the corner of the room, amidst bookshelves and decorative knick-knacks. A pair of reading glasses hung off his nose, catching strands of loose hair as the tried to block his vision. His pale skin almost glowed in the white morning light like a pearl, Mitsuki could almost feel his heart skip a beat.

He looked up, a bit surprised to see the other member of his group, giving off the vibe that maybe the two don’t talk as much as their on stage charisma implied.

“You’re in my house?” Gaku scrunched his eyebrows, folding the book in his hands over his knee.

“I came to borrow something, this child knocked on the door when I was getting ready to leave,”

“Could you stop taking things without asking?”

“Could? Yes. Will I? No, actually. Anyways, I have things to do, have fun with whatever.” The boy dressed in black turned on his heel, exiting the room without looking back. Gaku gave a disgruntled sigh into his hand before looking back up to finally greet Mitsuki.

He stood up and paced over towards the shorter man as he spoke, “I hadn’t expected you to come over so soon, to be honest. Was our conversation just that interesting?”

“I have the day off, though I didn’t just come here to chat,” Mitsuki shuffled awkwardly, one hand reaching up to rub the nape of his neck.

“Oh, who’s the forward one now?”

Heat flared up behind his cheeks, “Not that! Agh, do I actually seem that despite? No, I wanted to ask you about my acting… If that was okay?”

“Oh, really? I thought you were good enough to be invited to act for the Queen, or are you just pulling my leg?” Gaku placed one hand onto the shorter mans back, leading him more towards the center of the room.

“I am here under her invitation! But…” He didn’t really want to straight out say he was doubting himself, that just made him feel even more pathetic. He wasn't here for an ego boost, just some tips and critiques. 

“Do you know Romeo and Juliet?”

Well, that came out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Have you ever performed Romeo and Juliet?”

“Once, to practice acting in English. Why?”

“You be Romeo, I’ll play Juliet. Show me what you’ve got.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can follow me @garretthawke (twitter)
> 
> shares/reviews/kudos/comments are helpful and appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i'll try to update this to the best of my ability bc im having fun, but it may not have a consistent update schedule.
> 
> you can follow me @garretthawke (twitter)
> 
> shares/reviews/kudos/comments are helpful and appreciated!


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